


there is hope again

by revolutionnaire



Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23735530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionnaire/pseuds/revolutionnaire
Summary: Hugh and Elnor make it to Nepenthe.(Canon-divergent fix-it AU.)
Relationships: Elnor/Hugh | Third of Five
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	there is hope again

**Author's Note:**

>   
> _there's hope yet_  
>  _there is hope again_  
>  _it sails through vicious storms_  
>  _my love_  
>  \- [𝅘𝅥𝅮](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GDYTc-b_pY)  
> 
> 
>   
> [soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2cTFrfzQO0ohtAUPMQKsVo)  
> 

In the end, although he can’t quite see it now, Hugh will be glad that Elnor’s sharing a room with him, as against the idea as he is in the first place.

“You don’t have to,” Hugh says when Elnor first insists, snappy and exhausted, still aching with grief, still sore from being treated like glass all evening and more than a little nauseous from the spatial trajector.

“How am I supposed to protect you otherwise?” Elnor retorts, equally as forceful as Hugh and looking quite as ill. Hugh can see how shaken and pale he is, though his grip on his sword hasn’t wavered since they stumbled through the woods and onto a wary Will Riker.

Hugh really shouldn’t snap, but he feels worn out and torn in a way he never has before. 

“Did you sleep in Picard’s room too when you were bound to him?” 

Elnor flushes a deep green at this and gapes for a reply, which instantly makes Hugh feel sorry for his temper.

“Hugh—” Picard begins, ever the diplomat. Even so, his face is strained, concerned.

“It’s not a bad idea, you know,” Deanna interrupts in that carefully commanding way of hers. And then, a big grin that somehow, as always, even after all this time, makes something relax in Hugh’s chest. “Plus, we don’t have enough rooms.”

  
  


“We have to go _now_ ,” Elnor had said back on the Cube, taking Hugh’s hand and tugging him away from the bodies of his friends. His swordsmanship had, again, bought them a few minutes of time but barely enough. Just enough time to find and trigger Hugh’s Fenris beacon, but nothing more, and there hadn’t even been an extra second for Hugh to sob over all the deaths he was leaving behind.

Still, Hugh had tried his best to resist, although it hadn’t stood a chance against Elnor’s strength. Frankly, until Elnor had shown up again, Hugh had been entirely ready to lie down and die himself; with all the strength and hope gone out of him at the sight of the slaughter.

“We have to go,” Elnor tried again.

“The others—” Hugh protested.

“The Romulans won’t have reason to hurt them if we’re off the Cube,” Elnor said immediately. “And we cannot stay.”

The chance of the Romulans backing off wasn’t very high, but Hugh knew Elnor had a point. There was no possible way they could remain there without eventually being found, and there was more he could do away from this place rather than lie here dead— as tempting as it was.

Elnor still had ahold of him; he hadn’t let go since the moment he had found him sobbing on the floor and had taken his hand and touched the back of Hugh’s neck and clasped him close like he was something - something _beloved_ , Hugh almost wanted to think, almost dared to think.

And so, with the something strange but dimly familiar feeling beating in his chest, Hugh had let Elnor pull him down the corridors and through the blare of the alarms, only stopping to tug Elnor left or right as the Queen cell beckoned to him somewhere deep beneath his skin.

As soon as they stumbled through to the cell, Hugh had worked almost automatically without thinking, the well-practiced motions coming to him like notes to a song: hitting the Fenris signal beacon, firing up the trajector, going over the control terminal to set it up for what he needed it to do.

“You’re incredible,” Elnor had said, watching, the tone of wonder in his voice sounding so out of place in their peril but not any less sincere for it. 

Not really, Hugh had thought. If he really were incredible, they wouldn’t have had to detour to his office for the beacon to call for help to do the thing his own tired, stripped down body couldn’t, waste a whole bunch of time, and get his friends killed in the process.

“There isn’t enough left in me to do it,” he’d said then, for himself more than for Elnor, throwing one last - not rueful, exactly, but something like it - look at the awful, beautiful machinery of the Queen cell. He’d always feared this would happen one day— the Romulans had been a problem for a while, from the moment they’d claimed this Cube for themselves. Good thing then, that he’d met Seven - _Annika_ \- when he did. “But she’ll know what to do.”

Elnor nodded, every muscle in his face tight with focus even as his eyes had shined with-- with a kind of wonder. 

Hugh pushed that thought out of his mind as he left the controls to lead Elnor towards the trajector.

And then they had stepped through the shimmering veil and onto Nepenthe.

  
  


The Riker-Troi house is stunning, of course. Even Hugh, who never quite got the hang of decorating and living in organic spaces, can appreciate the quality of the rich wooden beams that soar far above their heads, holding up the ceiling in a lofty way that makes him feel small in a way the Borg Cubes never could, solid and substantial with their heft yet warm and inviting at the same time. 

Elnor seems perfectly at home here - of course he does, Hugh realises. From what little he’s heard, his home planet was nothing but organic; a land built by refugees like himself, but all flowing fabrics and sunlight and nothing like the metal and artificial bulbs that Hugh still finds comfort in. 

He doesn’t want to think about dragging Elnor off from a home like this, away from the sun and into whatever darkness Hugh always seems to find himself in lately, and so he doesn’t. Instead he hangs back and watches as Elnor steps gleefully into the garden, turning his face up to feel the warmth and the breeze against his smile, and when Elnor looks back to smile at _him_ , Hugh can barely manage a smile back over the sudden searing lump in his throat. 

How could Elnor look like that, still lovely and glowing in the simple pleasure of the outdoors, as though they hadn’t left a pile of bodies behind them?

For a minute back then, when Elnor held his hand in his and touched him with hands so full of heat and determination, Hugh had dared to believe him. He’d even thought he could fight, that there was still something worth fighting for, and it was that thought alone that made him get up off the floor and march forward.

Away from Elnor now, he’s not so sure. Now he has time to think about all the lives and deaths he left behind. He knows Elnor is used to killing; he does it unflinchingly. He doesn’t enjoy it, but he knows it must be done. If it goes against his cause, people die, simple as that-- nothing more and nothing less. Not like that all for Hugh though. He has never gotten used to death. Yet it followed him everywhere, and now he was supposed to pull Elnor along with him? Down whatever lost cause his life had decided to turn itself into? Make Elnor kill, and kill, and kill again? And then one day, more likely than not, get killed himself?

“The shower’s ready,” Deanna says from somewhere behind him. Hugh turns around to look at her and the concern is warm, so warm in her dark eyes. She offers him a small smile, puts a comforting hand on his forearm.

“Elnor,” she calls, looking past Hugh. “You go ahead first. I’ll show Hugh to the room and then you can join him, okay?”

  
  


The room he’s led to turns out to be a small but sunny one tucked into an alcove on the second floor of the house. The walls and shelves are decorated in a way that reminds him of Soji’s on the Cube: drawings and scribblings on paper, photos, medals, figurines of strange bony ancient life forms that Deanna tells him are called dinosaurs. The room was her son’s, she’d said.

When Elnor comes back to their room after his shower, he’s wearing something of Will’s so large it makes him look as young as Hugh realises he must be. Thinking about it though, Elnor can’t be that much younger than Hugh - which is to say he must have spent nearly the same amount of time being alive as Hugh has spent being, well, reclaimed. Hugh has lived - properly lived - in this reclaimed body of his for almost 30 years now, and while his memories of before that are still dull and hazy, he thinks he might remember a few things.

But nothing, he thinks, quite like Elnor.

Elnor, who is standing sheepish in the doorway as though he isn’t sure Hugh’s going to let him in.

Hugh doesn’t think he can handle feeling any crappier than he already does, so he pulls his gaze away from Elnor’s frozen form, sits down on the bed and pats the space next to him to beckoning Elnor over. Now he’s watching Elnor again, watching as something like relief, or gratitude - something tangible, in any case - breaks out clear and strong on his face before he pads over to Hugh.

When Elnor sits next to him, it’s so graceful and quiet, almost weightless. He could alight at any moment, Hugh thinks, and leave barely a quiver in the air behind. 

Now that he’s closer, Hugh can see that he hasn’t bothered drying his hair properly. It lies in a damp tangle, soft and loose down his shoulders, clinging to the bare skin of his neck and Hugh has to fight the urge to touch it. What was it about Elnor that turned him into such a fool?

Elnor looks at him, expectant.

Hugh looks back at him, and now with Elnor finally here before him and sitting so close, everything inside him seems to waver. He has to swallow around that same painful lump in his throat and he’s starting to think that he may never be able to say what he means but maybe that’s because he doesn’t know what he means anyway.

He remembers, suddenly, Elnor’s hand on the back of his neck, his strong but gentle hand in his, eyes burning into his. How it had felt making their way through the tight tunnels of the Cube together, so narrow that they’d had to be pressed up against each other. Even now he can’t forget how soothing and _good_ that touch had felt.

A little bit of that feeling flares back - and now he realises what it is, what it has been all along. That’s why it was so hard to say. He’d let himself do that stupid thing and _hope_ again. He should tell Elnor that, he thinks. That’s what he wants Elnor to know: how much he’s done for him and why he can’t do anymore.

Instead Hugh says, “Are you okay?”

Elnor’s eyes soften. He’s smiling less than he was when he was outdoors, but Hugh can still see the glow the sun’s heat has left on his skin.

“I’m okay,” Elnor says. “Are you?”

Hugh half-nods, half-shrugs. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he says. “Earlier. I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your friends,” Elnor says in return. He looks genuinely guilty, as though they could have avoided the disaster on the Cube only if he had been faster, stronger, something more. 

“That’s not your fault,” Hugh replies. How can it be Elnor’s fault when it is his? Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. “Elnor, I—”

He’s about to say it; he’s about to tell Elnor everything when there’s an impatient rapping at the door. Elnor breaks his gaze, but only to hide a somewhat guilty grin.

It’s Kestra, who had been absolutely taken by Elnor as soon as they met - a real-life Romulan warrior monk right here in her own little wooden cabin! - hammering at their door to pull Elnor away for a “hunt in the woods”. Hugh can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm and wave a reluctant Elnor off.

“I’ll see you later,” Hugh calls after them and then he closes the door behind him and finds himself alone again. But it’s only for a while until there’s another knock on the door and Deanna peers in, much more apologetic than her daughter.

“Can I come in?”

Hugh nods, and she makes her way in, somehow sitting exactly where Hugh is comfortable with.

“Elnor told me what happened before you came here,” she says gently. “After you helped Picard and Soji get away?”

Hugh is fully prepared for the wrench of pain that hits him again, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. He manages only to nod.

“I know it hurts,” Deanna says. “And I’m sorry.”

It’s not like Hugh hasn’t lost anyone to death before. He has, countless times over. Thousands of times with the Collective, and what feels like even more in the life after that. And each time it had felt like something carved out of him, always leaving him feeling adrift, like empty scaffolding holding the remnants of a wreckage together. This time though - this time for some reason - it hurts _more._

It was how they had looked, how they had looked _at him_ , so trusting and unafraid even as the phasers pointed at their heads had begun to light up. And how they had collapsed, crumpled, never breaking their gaze until the life went out of their eyes. Even to the end, they had looked at him for help. Hugh can’t stop seeing it in his mind.

“Thank you,” Hugh says.

“Also, Elnor,” Deanna continues, as careful as she can. “He’s worried about you.”

Hugh knows. 

“He cares about you,” she says, more gentle than ever but unrelenting. “Very much. Sometimes it’s all I can sense from him.”

As much as he’d tried to convince himself that couldn’t be the case, Hugh knows this too. And hearing it from someone else makes a cloud of emotion well up inside him. 

Deanna doesn’t tell Hugh how he feels, though he knows she must know, and she’s not mentioning it out of kindness or tact. The truth is he cares about Elnor terribly, but of course that must seem obvious. He imagines what that must look like to her: a dying flicker of something blinding and hot radiating off him, perhaps. Still, she leaves him with his own feelings.

He knows, then, that he can tell her the truth.

“You’re right, Deanna,” he says. “I’ve always dreamt of something like this, but—”

 _But why does it have to come at such a cost_ , is what he wants to say. How did he find this brave beautiful boy, so strong and gentle and sincere, full of innocence and righteousness at the same time. And why did he find him now, at the hardest time of his life? What right did he, who caused the deaths of so many, have to someone as good as Elnor?

Somehow he thinks Deanna already knows this, because she puts her hand on his and gives it a squeeze. “When you grieve for someone you have survived, guilt is normal. But Hugh, you must try your best to not let it take more than it already has. Trust me,” she says, and she sounds sad in a way he never thought possible. “I know.” 

“Talk to Elnor,” she says then, before Hugh can say anything.

Hugh nods. He knows she’s right, but he still can’t fight the thought that tells him he should cut and run now before he drags Elnor even deeper into whatever it was he was doing. 

And yet. 

And yet, he still can’t help but wonder what it would be like to go through life with Elnor by his side. What it would be like to have his strength, of course, but more than that, his brightness, his kindness, his smile and the way he could take your hand and make you believe again. Did Hugh really deserve to waste all that on himself? 

He really doesn’t, he thinks, and certainly not with Elnor who is so perfect and beautiful and could do so much more than saddle himself with an old xB who couldn’t even protect anyone. And especially not now, when they are on the verge of war, or something worse. 

Now Deanna narrows her eyes at him.

“Now if you’re thinking you aren’t worth it, I’m going to tell you you’re wrong,” Her brows draw together sharply, her eyes so dark now they seem to glitter. “What you’ve done? You’re a hero as much as any of us. If you were in Starfleet, your work on the Cube would have gotten you a Captainship, at the very least. You are a good person, Hugh. You always have been.”

“But—“

“Trust Elnor,” she says. “He may be young but you know he’s trained his whole life for this. You know he knows a cause when he sees one and he’s good at what he does, so respect that, trust him. You do, don’t you?”

Deanna’s right, of course. He does trust Elnor— maybe more than that.

“Then believe him when he believes in you,” she says.

Hugh really can’t argue with that. Deanna seems to notice that too, because in an instant, the darkness vanishes off her face and she grins bright and beautiful at Hugh, giving his hand in hers a joyful shake.

“So listen - Picard won’t stay long, I’m sure you know. But you are welcome to stay as long as you need, okay? Before you decide what to do next. And Will and I are here to help in any way we can. If you need friends, or-” and she smiles a different smile now, something edged with a flash of mischief and steel that reminds Hugh that for all the luxurious trappings of their cabin, these two were still, always, going to be officers. “Or, if you need a plan.”

  
  


There is no talk of plans later that night; instead there is something they call pizza with fresh tomatoes, as Will keeps announcing proudly. He and Deanna glow with hospitality and affection, even Picard loosens up and regales them all with stories from the Enterprise, to Kestra’s delight. Soji keeps her distance from them, and looks at Hugh with recognition and accusation and even though he doesn’t blame her, Hugh finds he can’t hold her gaze for long. 

Still, the dinner continues without incident, and Hugh could almost fool himself into being lulled away by the warm fondness in the conversation between old friends. Even Elnor, at first so taut beside him, relaxes eventually and gives in to Kestra’s barrage of questions about his training and the Qowat Milat.

Eventually, after many slices of pizza and a few glasses of wine, Hugh leaves them to their freshly opened bottles and retreats for his room. Elnor follows him not long after.

Deanna has laid out an extra mattress on the floor, which Elnor claims straight away, probably in an attempt to make sure Hugh ended up in the proper bed.

Just as well, Hugh thinks. He’s exhausted.

“I think I need to sleep,” Hugh says, making for the bed.

“I’ll keep watch,” Elnor says immediately.

“Didn’t you hear Will? Shields and scanners are up. If anything happens, we’ll know.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Elnor says again. 

“If you want to,” Hugh says, too tired to argue.

“I do,” Elnor says.

  
  


It feels like it’s mere minutes before he finds himself on the Cube again, watching his fellow xBs fall to phaser fire, eyes dead even before they hit the ground. This time their eyes remain open, staring at him, following him around as he tries to run before there is a blast behind him and a searing pain and-- 

And then, blessedly, he jolts awake with a shout. 

It’s dark and his eyes are wet with tears but the nightmarish scenes are still thick and real around him like a shroud, smothering him so he can’t breathe. He tries to fight out of it the only way he can, thrashing with all his might until suddenly he can’t. Something has him in its hold, something so warm it melts the suffocating grip of terror.

It’s Elnor, there with him almost before he’s aware of it, arms around him, making soothing noises in a language Hugh understands enough to know is Romulan. 

Slowly, Hugh can breathe again, even if it does come out in choked, tearful gasps.

Elnor cradles his head so gently in his hands and doesn’t let go even as Hugh grasps blindly for him, needing more than anything to hold on to something solid and real, something alive. 

“It’s okay,” Elnor whispers.

He meant to keep watch for this, Hugh realises with a sob. And with that, he lets himself cry in Elnor’s arms until somehow, finally, he slips back into sleep again.

  
  


When he wakes up next, the room is awash with the morning light and Elnor is sleeping, curled into a tiny ball to fit beside him. Hugh has to stop to take in that sight, as charming and as jarring as it is in equal measure. It’s been less than a day but it almost feels like he can barely remember their time on the Cube, only Elnor putting his body between his own and danger, and now they’ve woken up in the same bed and it feels like the most natural thing in his life.

Before he can do anything stupid, Hugh gets out of bed as carefully as he can, careful not to disturb Elnor. He pads across the empty mattress and over to the bathroom, where he takes his time to wash the tear streaks from his face and smooth his hair down into something more acceptable.

By the time he gets back, Elnor is awake.

“Wow,” Elnor says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “You look good.”

It’s strange to hear that from someone who can get up and look perfectly radiant and put together. Still, Hugh feels like he may be blushing, remembering how Elnor had held him last night.

“Thank you,” Hugh says. “For last night.” 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, sheepish and suddenly shy.

“Bathroom’s all yours,” Hugh says. His throat feels tight and dry again, watching Elnor blush like that.

Again, Elnor rushes back from the bathroom, as though he’s afraid Hugh will disappear in the five minutes it’s taken him to wash his face and brush his teeth.

And when he sees Hugh, back in bed and trying to read a terrible novel off his datapad, he smiles that now-familiar, bright barely-restrained smile of relief that Hugh has seen him wear so many times in his presence.

Hugh swallows around the tightness in his throat and makes space for Elnor on the bed again.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” Hugh says at last. The relief drains from Elnor’s face. “Your bond, you don’t have to stay now.. We lost the Cube. There’s no cause, not anymore.”

“I bonded myself to _you_ ,” Elnor replies, serious, his eyes dark and brimming with devotion Hugh no longer feels he deserves. “No matter what you choose to do.”

“You calling me a lost cause?” Hugh laughs dryly, a little surprised that he can still joke.

“No,“ Elnor is flustered. Of course he didn’t get the joke; Picard had told Hugh a little about the order he’d trained in. Absolute candor, they called it. Hugh finds that reassuring. “No, I—“

“I won’t hold you to it,” Hugh interrupts, growing desperate. “You don’t have to.”

Now Elnor’s eyes blaze with a determined fury. “But I _want_ to,” he says.

“You don’t even know what it’s going to be like after this,” Hugh says lamely. “ _I_ don’t know what it’s going to be.”

“I don’t care.” Then, the furious light in his eyes falters. His voice grows small, afraid. “Unless... you don’t want me to?”

“I do,” Hugh says, too fast; in his haste to soothe Elnor he’s forgotten to keep his own selfish desires to himself. The joy on Elnor’s face very nearly keeps him from regretting it. He knows only that something prickles behind his eyes and the tightness that hasn’t left his throat now moves lower to squeeze his chest.

“Why me though?” Hugh can’t help himself from asking. He wants to know, or maybe he just wants to hear Elnor say it. 

“I know you won’t give up,” Elnor says. “I know you would die for anything you chose to do. That can’t happen.”

“It’s not going to be easy. There’s probably going to be more of what we saw in the Cube. Frankly, I’m not even sure what we’re up against.”

“ _That’s_ why I can’t leave you!” Elnor’s really worked up now. “Even if it’s terrible and we have to fight to the end and even if we lose, it’s all worth it if it’s you!”

“Okay,” Hugh says, his heart thumping a fast, unfamiliar beat. Deanna’s words ring heavily in his mind. He trusts Elnor, and he trusts him to make this decision too. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

Elnor heaves a breath. “I am,” he says.

“But why, Elnor?” 

“I just,” Elnor stumbles and takes a moment to readjust, like he’s steeling himself to shift his stance in a duel. When he looks back up at Hugh, his eyes are clear and battle-sharp. “I just want to be with you.”

 _Why_ , is all Hugh can think. He’s only known Elnor for barely more than a day, so _why_ is Elnor looking at him like that? 

And what does it even mean to have someone look at you that way? When you have spent your life not quite this and not quite not that, not fully human and not so much an object of desire than one?

It’s a look he’s never had much reason or opportunity to see, but he’s lived long enough enough to know. He’d seen it on Elnor’s face even before they were on Nepenthe, crammed up against each other in the corridors of the Cube. He thinks he must have looked very much the same.

Still, Elnor is looking at him, his jaw working, waiting to see how Hugh responds. In the end, he says the only thing he can.

“Thank you,” Hugh says.

“What for?” Elnor asks, genuinely puzzled.

What for indeed, Hugh thinks, futile. So many things. He doesn’t know what it is about Elnor that makes him such a fool. Makes him want to hope again, to do foolish things, like touch Elnor and tell him to stay by his side. And most foolish of all, Elnor makes him believe that he deserves to.

“You— you make so many things seem possible,” Hugh says at last, and Elnor smiles.

“Can I touch you,” Elnor says, shy now. “Like we did back then?”

Hugh nods and Elnor moves closer. He feels quite frozen in place, but when Elnor’s hand comes to rest slowly on the back of his neck, pulling them softly together so their foreheads touch, it all comes back to him. Elnor’s fingers are warm and rough and Hugh revels in the feel of them on his skin. Everything thrums alive in the place where Elnor touches him, that sudden inevitable rush of feeling. He closes his eyes, and he feels Elnor do the same. He breathes, Elnor breathes and then they are in sync. 

To be connected to another mind again - to such a beautiful mind - without anything more than just the two of them and the feelings they share— it feels better than Hugh could have ever hoped. Something beats between them, and Hugh thinks he recognises what it is: this grounding, resounding trust. 

Without thinking, his hand finds Elnor’s on the soft sheets beneath them. There is a soft gasp from Elnor, a puff of breath, a tensing and a relaxing as Elnor melts into his touch. Hugh is aware of it all, just as he is aware also of the fact that he is in love.

Just then, Elnor draws back gently, though he leaves his hand in Hugh’s. He’s smiling, his face alight with a shy but unrestrained joy. Does he know?

Missing their nearness, Hugh reaches closer - he can’t help himself and it’s not very far anyway. He just wants to thank Elnor, nothing more, for the little bit of hope he’d allowed Hugh to taste. When he’s close enough, he brushes his lips against Elnor’s cheek. 

Elnor’s hands, warm under his in the space between them, are shaking. Elnor breathes out a small trembling breath. It’s barely anything but it feels unbearably warm to Hugh, warm enough to stoke a flame in him that he hasn’t felt in years.

It suddenly seems easier - no, not easy, the opposite of easy, it is almost impossible _not_ to - to bring his lips a fraction to the left to meet Elnor’s but he won’t do that.

In fact, it’s Elnor who’s moving now, Elnor who’s turning his head to catch Hugh’s lips with his own, and Hugh knows exactly what is going to happen but is still absolutely, stupidly unable to do anything about it at all. 

He thinks it’s the sweetest kiss he’s ever felt.

It’s soft and shy, in a too-small bed, and it’s nothing more than that, but Hugh feels himself burning up all the same. 

As it goes on, it grows in intensity: Elnor’s hand pressing just that little more against his skin, snaking up to tangle in his hair. Elnor's mouth is slick and ever more persistent, their chests touching now, crushing together—

“We don’t have to rush,” he manages to gasp against Elnor’s lips.

“It feels good though,” Elnor says in return. He’s flushed and heavy-lidded, dangerously distracted, and Hugh can’t believe he’s the one who’s done that to him.

It does feel good, Hugh has to admit. Better than good.

“And besides,” Elnor adds. “I like you.”

Stupid Hugh; again all he can think and say is _why_.

“I told you before,” Elnor says, frowning. Hugh wants to reach out and smooth the furrow in his brow, and he feels a thrill of joy at the knowledge that he can. “You’re incredible. And you’re kind, and good. And brave. And strong. And—”

“Stop it,” Hugh says weakly. “You’re making me blush.”

“But it’s true,” Elnor insists.

Hugh loves him so much.

Elnor smiles, as though he knows.

Something soars in Hugh's heart and he lets Elnor kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> please forgive any factual errors; it was too painful to go back and rewatch the series to fact-check. :(
> 
> also [thank you jonathan del arco](https://sea.ign.com/star-trek-picard/158481/feature/picard-jonathan-del-arco-on-how-he-found-the-new-hugh)


End file.
